


Infiltration

by Insane_but_smart



Series: MCYT Fics [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Among Us (Video Game) Setting, Character Death, The Skeld (Among Us)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26599054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insane_but_smart/pseuds/Insane_but_smart
Summary: They had wanted to do this supply run fast. It wasn't supposed to be more than that.But people are turning up dead, and nobody knows who the killer is.Can they survive when death looms around each corner?Probably not.But they can try to, anyways.
Series: MCYT Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915528
Comments: 16
Kudos: 99





	1. the calm before the storm

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Missing Sunrise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26138422) by [jestayork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jestayork/pseuds/jestayork). 



> oWo!  
> I have noticed a lack in Among Us based fics! So! I'm fixing that! >:D  
> Enjoy~

Now, Tubbo would be lying if he said that he had expected this. But in reality, nobody had a clue it’d happen. Nobody had expected it, and nobody had  _ wanted  _ it, either.

The ship was simply chaos and mayhem now- nobody trusted each other, not unless they were  _ sure  _ the other person was safe.

And even then, they could be a ruthless killer.

Even then.

But that wasn't how it had started- oh, no, there was a series of events that had led up to where he was now, a hand pressed firmly against his mouth as he tried not to make any sound, his wide eyes flickering over each screen on the huge monitors in Security.

He was absolutely terrified.

It was a normal day on the spaceship. Tommy was whining about how he'd totally defeat Techno in a battle once they got back home, “Just you wait! The great Tommyinnit is going to  _ kick his as-” _ He was cut off rather abruptly by Bad shrieking “LANGUAGE!” from where the other was, which just so happened to be on the opposite side of the Cafeteria, next to a tray of muffins.

Tommy snickered, sauntering over. “Penis. Dick. Cu-”

Bad screamed, blanching. “Language! Language!  _ Language!” _ he yelped, in a desperate attempt to counter the cusses being hurled in his direction. This, unfortunately, did not deter the child whatsoever- Tommy continued to pester Bad, and they got increasingly louder, Tommy screaming profanities as Bad continued to retaliate. Wilbur pulled the two apart- or, rather, pulled  _ Tommy _ away by slinging the blonde teen over his shoulder and walking away nonchalantly. Tubbo giggled at Tommy’s indignant shrieks.  _ “No! I'm the great Tommyinnit! You can't do this to me, you bastard!” _

Wilbur paid his whining no heed as he continued to walk away, the 16 year old being carried like he was a rather pesky sack of potatoes that just wouldn’t stop screaming.

Tubbo bounced up to them, his yellow spacesuit a blaring sign of his identity. “Heya Wilbur!” he said, and Tommy shrieked, his limbs flailing desperately as he tried to escape Wilbur’s hold. Unfortunately for him, Wilbur did not let him escape. “You're not going to acknowledge the  _ great Tommyinnit?!” _ he screeched quite obnoxiously.

Tubbo continued to pretend the 16 year old in an annoyingly bright purple spacesuit didn't exist, instead blinking at Wilbur as he waited for a response. Wilbur shrugged. “Oh, you know, stopping little gremlin boys from annoying us all to death.”

“So the usual?”

“The usual,” Wilbur confirmed, as Tommy screamed in a desperate bid to get attention. “Are you excited to get going?”

Tubbo grinned. “Hell yeah!” he cheered, and there was a distant “Language!” from somewhere behind him. He paid it no heed. “Of course I am!” He paused, tilting his head slightly with innocent curiosity. “Do you think there are bees there?”

The older man chuckled. “Maybe.”

Tubbo began to practically vibrate with excitement, and Wilbur went to ruffle his hair- though, forgetting he was carrying Tommy, the blonde teen ended up crashing to the floor with a string of obscenities, swiftly followed by the faint yells of “Language!”. So. You know. The usual.

Wilbur looked down at the child. “Whoops,” he said, unapologetically, the hints of a smirk twisting his lips upwards, and Tommy scowled. Meanwhile, Tubbo extended a hand. “Are you alright?” he asked, genuinely concerned, and Tommy's scowl softened.

“Obviously, because I am a  _ man _ and  _ men _ do shit like  _ this _ all of the time,” he huffed, swatting Tubbo’s hand away and standing up on his own (“Aww, what a big boy!” Wilbur cooed, and Tommy glared at him in response), and Tubbo smiled. “Alright then!” He paused. “Are you completely sure you are th-”

“For Christ’s sa- yes! Yes! I am! Are you happy?”

Tubbo shrugged, before responding morbidly, “Is anyone?” He then proceeded to skip off.

“Sometimes I really don't understand that kid,” Wilbur supplied, to which Tommy nodded his agreement, silent for once.

Sapnap poked at Dream's mask. “What’s even under there?” he pondered aloud. George scoffed from nearby. “He's probably hiding his face because he thinks he's… I dunno, hideous. Or something.” Dream did not respond at all to this comment. Well. Maybe he did a little. “Hey, that's not-”

“Or,” Sapnap retorted with gusto, “He wants to protect you from his sheer beauty.”

“I'm  _ straight, _ Sapna-”

“You're  _ not _ homiesexual?!” Sapnap gasped, betrayed. “How could you do this to me? And after all the times we cuddled too…” He mock-swooned with horror. “You’ve betrayed us all, Georgie.”

George rolled his eyes. “You're stupid,” the colourblind British bastard huffed, crossing his arms.

Sapnap stuck his tongue out in response. George did the same. Dream repressed snickers.

“You two are like- Tommy's age. You're both five.” Both men turned to the lime green menace with hurt expressions and retorts spilling from their lips. Dream and his smiley-face mask had no regrets.

A certain Dutch, orange furry- er-  _ Fundy, _ leaned against a wall, his bushy orange fox tail (Nobody knew how he’d gotten one- his DNA was human. They knew  _ that _ because they had tested a blood sample or two- There was a running bet that he was a freak lab experiment- some sort of grafted abomination- or maybe he’d been exposed to radiation, or-) swishing back and forth languidly.

Tubbo bounced up to him, still vibrating with excitement. What a bean. “Hi Fundy!”

“Oh, hey, Tubbo,” Fundy replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Uhhh, I work here.”

“W- oh, no- what are you doing… over here?”   
“Oh! Nothing much! I just wanted to see how you were doing. I mean, you looked kinda lonely n’ all.”

Fundy chuckled, about to respond, when a certain someone made his presence known. “There’s my little furry Dutch daughter-turned-son!” Wilbur cooed, and Fundy visibly paled. Tubbo repressed giggles. “Who’s a good little furry f--ker?” Wilbur continued, and Fundy groaned.

“...Wilbur, none of us have- there’s- oh my _god,_ there’s a  _ child _ present Wilbur-”

Tommy ran over, practically at the speed of light (which, in all actuality, should have filled him), and slung an arm around Tubbo’s shoulders. “We are no children! We are both  _ men!” _ Tubbo made a small affirmative noise, confused and yet vibing all the same.

“Tommy, you’re not part of this conversation,” Wilbur scolded the blonde and obnoxious teen, before going to pinch Fundy’s cheeks. Fundy made a face and pulled away before Wilbur could even begin to have the chance to do this. Wilbur pouted. Fundy rolled his eyes at the Brit’s theatrics.

“Yes I am! I am a man! And my good friend over here, Toby, Tubbo, Tubbothy, is also a man as well! We are both men and we should be included in this conversation because as men we are entitled to this because it is our right!” Somehow, Tommy managed to get all of that out in one breath. Wilbur arched an eyebrow. Simps all around the galaxy would have swooned if they beheld this. Tubbo nodded his agreement to Tommy’s statement. “Yes,” Tubbo added, his voice and expression completely monotone and robotic. “We are men. We are the biggest men. Me and my friend Big- Big T-” The designated Bee Boy, Tubbo, couldn’t keep his composure any longer, completely devolving into a giggling mess. Wilbur patted him on the head once more, before picking up the stinky gremlin boy bearing the name of Tommy and hauling him off. Tommathy screamed his indignation as Tubbo convulsed with laughter, his stomach beginning to cramp.

Fundy stared at the child, expression concerned- though, really, that went without saying. “Are you okay?”

Tubbo gave him a weak thumbs-up, and Fundy shrugged. “Well… okay, then. I’ll… I’ll leave you to that.”

The furry walked off, leaving Tubbo to compose himself rather desperately in peace.

Everything had been fine.


	2. oh-so easily ignored, silently slipping past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just a normal day.   
> Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used a randomizer to pick so many things, and I'm really sad about this outcome. :(   
> He didn't deserve it.
> 
> I couldn't think of what to do with a few members of the ship this chapter. Maybe next chapter though.

Tommy huffed, digging through the wiring in Electrical. “God- F--K! SHIT!” he yelped, as one of the straggling and exposed wires gave him a little ‘love tap’. He glared at the offending pink color. “You little b-tch, you think you can get away with- with  _ zapping _ the great Tommyinnit, don’t you? Well you’re not going to because  _ I _ am the greatest- I am- I am a  _ man _ and we  _ men- _ do you know what we do, we zap back, you’re in big f--king trouble now you little f--king b-tchy shit, yeah you’re over and done with you stupid f--king bastard you hear me??? Yeah??? Yeah?? That’s right you little punk. Now  _ get in there you pink f--k.” _ Tommy glared at the stupid little pink wire that had the misfortune of incurring his rage, before going back to fixing the wiring.

And then, by pure chance (or perhaps his agitated yelling) Wilbur walked in, which was just his dumb luck, because- “Tommy.”

Tommy froze, turning around. “Y- yeah?”

“What are you doing.”

“Fixing the w-”

Wilbur groaned. “Tommy _ innit, _ you don’t have the experience, how many times do I have to tell you this? You have to  _ weld _ them together, you- you silly little gremlin boy.”

“I’m a man! I can weld things! I am a very manly man-”

“You’re 16. You are still, quite literally, a  _ child _ . And,” he continued, “You’re not authorized to do this, either.”

Tommy scowled at Wilbur, a burning and fiery (…no, that wasn’t what he thought it was, it couldn’t be, not in a million years, and if it wasn’t that then it was- it  _ had to be _ -) passion in his eyes. “Oh- Fine! If you’re such- such a  _ big man  _ then just go on and do it yourself! You don’t need my help!” He pushed past the white-suited man and into the hallway.

“What are we going to do with you…?”

George peeked into Nav. “Oh, hi Fundy,” he said, nonchalantly. “What are you up to?”

Fundy shrugged, running his hands across the dashboard. “Charting our course, keeping us on track. Just in case, you know?”

George walked over, his enchroma clout goggles (don’t ask how they worked, he couldn’t give you an answer) over his eyes so that you couldn’t really see where they were. Leaning over the fox-human hybrid’s shoulder, he hummed. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

He leaned back, and tried to begin walking away, but the hinge of his glasses had caught some of Fundy’s stray hair, and they both cursed. “Okay,” Fundy started. “This… is awkward.”

“Are you ready?”

“Just do it already.”

“One-  _ three!” _ George yanked his head away from Fundy’s, and his glasses fell off, though he had in fact managed to detach them. Fundy hissed, annoyed, and rubbed his head gently, glaring at George, who shrugged quite sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

Fundy sighed. “It’s fine.”

George left, the brief meeting having been made quite awkward already.

Tubbo grabbed the handle and pulled down with a grunt, using all of his strength to get it down there. He heard the sounds of the chute opening, and then shortly after that, closing, spilling its contents out into space. He frowned. Surely that wasn’t a good idea, depositing waste into the galaxies like that. It was, quite certainly, impractical, for starters, and also polluted the space between planets.

Like… an intergalactic litter, of sorts.

He sighed, glancing back into the rest of the cafeteria, when Tommy came storming in. “Hey Tommy!” he began, but noticing his friend’s expression, he frowned. “Are… you okay?”

Tommy scowled, kicking at one of the benches near the tables. There was a hollow clang as his boot made contact, and Tubbo didn’t doubt the fact that it hurt. His thoughts were confirmed by the small hiss of pain Tommy gave and the way he flinched away from it a little- and as much as Tubbo wanted to ask if he was badly hurt, he knew two things- One: It probably wasn’t that bad, just a little bit of fleeting pain.

Two: Tommy wouldn’t like that- after all, he was (and this was in Tommy’s own words) ‘a big man’.

So he just… stood, helplessly, and watched.

“...’m fine, Tubbo,” Tommy muttered, after a minute or two. “This is absolutely  _ splendid.” _

“What happened?” He couldn’t resist asking any longer, and the question was out before he could reach out and pull it back within. It was out and exposed to the world. Tommy shrugged.

“Wilbur doesn’t think I’m a big man.”

“But… you’re the biggest man around?” Tubbo tried, and that seem to placate Tommy a little, because he continued.

“Exactly! I can do just one little wires task!” Tommy threw his hands up in the air, a physical expression of his exasperation. “It’s not even that hard! You just do the- the- the bzzt bzzts n’ shit and then it’s done!”

“Ah, yes, the bzzt bzzts.”

“Oh, come off it, Tubbothy, or I’m revoking your man status.”

“Can you even do that?” Tubbo questioned, and Tommy paused, thinking- he continued on, however- “And anyways, we’re the same age, so you’d be revoking your own status as well.”

“Goddammit, Tubbo, you’re  _ right.” _

“Always have been!”

Tommy glared at him, but this one had none of the previous fiery heat his gaze had held. “Shut up.”

_ It wasn’t fair, that they all had to die. _

_ It wasn’t fair, that he had to be the one to kill them. _

_ But in all honesty, what was he to do? _

_ They were criminals, were they not? _

_ He had to purge this universe of the likes of their filth. _

_ And even though they- even though [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] hadn’t deserved this fate, it was theirs nonetheless- the government was a harsh mistress, with a heavy hand she wasn’t afraid to use. _

_ He’d have to pull this off smoothly, without a hitch, to snatch himself a pardon- _

_ But how? _

_ He had a few ideas. _

_...if only he could tell them how sorry he was, how incredibly sorry he was, about this whole thing, maybe he’d find some fragment of consolation in that. _

_ But, alas, that was just a fleeting thought. _

_ It didn’t matter, anyways. _

Fundy hummed to himself, waiting for the download to complete.

Really, these things took  _ forever- _ they had a spaceship and yet they couldn’t afford high-speed downloads?! What kind of ship was this, even? It was the strangest compromise the ‘furry’ had ever seen (No matter how hard he tried, they refused to stop calling him a furry. It was so  _ incredibly annoying, _ he swore that he was going to snap eventually…) made, but it was a compromise made nonetheless, and he wouldn’t be lying if he had said he was only complaining out of sheer boredom, his animosity most likely borne from the long wait. 

Though in all honesty, he didn’t care much for wasting time, so perhaps that wasn’t true, was it?

His fingers glanced across the reflective surface of the tablet, swiping left and right, locking it up and logging himself out so that his information wasn’t corrupted- that would be quite horrible. With a swipe of his card, he drew the intel from his tablet and into-

...access denied?

Ah, he’d forgotten to go to Admin, hadn’t he?

Well, that was of no consequence- he could just go now and rectify this grievous mistake.

He plucked the card out of his pocket and walked there without another thought, his tail occasionally brushing the walls as it flicked back and forth, his boots making the smallest clanging noise as they tapped against the cold floor.

He pushed open the doors and made his way to the sign-in table.

He couldn’t have predicted what he beheld next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> have fun with your theories!


	3. it never lasts, oh, it never lasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you are wondering [and i've probably said this before but i'll say it again], the chapter titles are part of a lyric poem I wrote specifically for this fic. So. That's why that's a thing, hehe.)
> 
> Don't you just LOVE a good murder?

The card slips.

The plastic ID slips from his hands and clatters to the floor.

He’s shaking.

_ No. _

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

There’s a body in a familiarly coloured suit.

And he’s dead.

Blood.

There’s blood everywhere.

He runs out of the room.  _ God- no, no, no, no- _

_ He can’t be dead. _

_ Not him. _

_ Please let this be a horrible dream. _

_...that’s a bad joke to make, considering what just happened. _

There is a sob caught in his throat as he darts down the corridors, and tears in his eyes as he presses the button.

They stain the tabletop as everyone arrives.

He is shaking.

Fundy is shaking and afraid. 

“What’s wrong?” George asks, and there is a hint of fear in his eyes as he frowns, looking at the human-fox hybrid, who continues to shake. “Fundy,” he repeats, his tone more firm this time, “What happened?”

“Dream,” he chokes out.

“What about him?” Sapnap responds, rolling his eyes derisively. “He’s an asshole-” Bad glares at him, the ‘language’ caught in his throat. “What else is there t-”

_ “He’s f--king dead.” _

Silence. Sapnap covers his mouth with horror. Bad’s eyes widen with shock as he too presses a hand to his mouth.

Tubbo looks around frantically for any sign of reassurance. “This is a joke, right?” he asks, but the terror in his voice betrays his true emotions. He doesn’t believe his own lie. “He’s not really…” Tommy places a hand on his shoulder, looking at the floor so that the fear visible in his eyes isn’t shown. Tubbo grabs fistfuls of Tommy’s spacesuit, hard enough to bruise his fingers, and buries his face in the sea of purple nylon, muffling his sobs. Dream wasn’t very close to him, but he was nice enough, and it  _ hurts _ to know he’s dead.

Tommy is angry.

He is upset, he is sad, he is most certainly distressed, and it expresses itself through teary-eyed  _ rage _ as he glares at everyone, holding Tubbo close to him and sparing him of his scorching gaze.

Wilbur looks shocked, stunned, even, to hear the news. “But…  _ why?” _ he mutters, pacing back and forth, restlessly tapping a finger on his chin. “Who would-”

He stops.

He turns to everyone.

He places his hands on the table with a loud enough sound to make Tubbo jump.

“Men,” he starts, looking up at them, and the cheeky twinkle that is normally present in his deep brown eyes is gone, the hair falling over his eye now a hindrance rather than an asset. Humor has no place at this table, and they all know it.

“There’s an impostor among us. Someone has betrayed us all. Fundy,” he says, his voice devoid of all emotion as he represses his feelings (he can show them later, but right now he must keep a level head, no matter how hard it is to do), “Where was the body?”

Fundy silently leads them down the hall and into the Admin room. “I- I think I’ll stay back,” Bad says, shaking his head. “I can’t see him dead.”

They all understand.

They leave Bad in the cafeteria and press onwards.

Dream’s corpse lays in the corner, hastily kicked under the table. If his suit was a darker green, Fundy might have missed the body entirely- thank god it wasn’t.

Thank god they knew.

It… it could have been too late, if they didn’t.

Wilbur shudders at the sight, before walking over and tugging Dream’s helmet off. The blonde’s green eyes stare glazed, directly upwards and at the ceiling, his mouth opened in a silent cry. He’d be handsome, if it wasn’t for the dried blood staining his lips and cheeks. His hand is laid upon his chest at an awkward angle, like he raised his hands to protest something- or to attack his assailant. He’s cold, Wilbur realizes, as he cups Dream’s cheek.

So very cold.

“It’s- he’s not fresh,” Wilbur whispers, running a hand back and forth above Dream’s face like he’s hoping the blonde would suddenly wake up and follow the trail of his fingers with his eyes. “He died a while ago.” His hand traces the blonde’s jaw for a minute before he stands abruptly.

“C- cause of death?” Tubbo manages to stammer out before his voice levels, his cheeks stained with tears but his eyes steely with determination. “How’d he die?” the child demands, hands balling into fists as he stares at the corpse.

Wilbur stares at Tubbo, shock visible in his expression and posture, before looking back at the body. “Stabbed?” he whispers, an answer and a question wrapped into one word.

Tubbo pushes Tommy off of him, despite having been the one to grab him in the first place, and walks over, frowning. “Stabbed,” he confirms, and his voice is so incredibly monotonous that it’s unnerving. George feels himself freeze with how unnaturally worded it is. What happened to Tubbo in the mere minutes the walk took?

It’s horrifying to think about.

Tubbo looks at all of them, his expression unnaturally dark, the purity and innocence gone from him completely.

He looks much older now. Like a leader.

It’s sad that this is what it took to bring that out in him, then.

His hands peel off the suit, his hands pressing against the sides of Dream’s body as he searches for injuries hidden beneath his white shirt. “Broken ribs,” he mutters. “Spine is intact. His neck clearly wasn’t snapped.” He looks up at all of them, his eyes gleaming with hidden sorrow as he says, “Probably internal bleeding. Majority of his ribs are broken. Though,” he muses, looking back at Dream, “That wasn’t what killed him- or at least, the killer didn’t want it to be, I think-” He flips Dream over, hands ruffling the other’s hair as he searches for what he wanted. Blood stains his gloves. “He was supposed to die instantly,” he murmured. “The killer- they wanted a painless death for him. But that wasn’t what happened, because the blow would have only knocked him out.

“So they did what-” His voice breaks, his facade slipping. “- what they had to d- do-” Tubbo pushes on, but he is only so young, and he can’t keep this up. He’s not like Wilbur, or George, or Sapnap or Tommy, who are all mourning in their own ways, not as much as he’d like to be. He’s not even like Fundy, who is holding himself tightly, wide-eyed, his body language showing that he is in a constant state of fight or flight mode.

He is Tubbo. He is 16.

And worst of all, he is still just a child.

“They broke his ribs,” he chokes out. “He- he died from the- the- in- inter- intermiss- internal bleedin-” Wilbur leans down and hugs him. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Tubbo, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. You don’t  _ have _ to be strong, Tubbo.”

Tubbo breaks.

He grasps Wilbur’s arm and whispers, “I- he died from the internal bleeding, he died fr-”

_ “Stop trying to be strong,” _ Wilbur whispers, choking on his words.  _ “Just stop it, you don’t have to keep on- keep up this act, you’re allowed to cry, it’s okay, Tubbo.” _

George shuffles awkwardly. Fundy and Sapnap had already left. Tommy was glaring daggers at the wall. It didn’t look good for any of them.

Wilbur looks at the two of them. “Leave,” he says, and George walks out silently. Tommy opens his mouth to make a retort, but he can’t make a sound before Wilbur continues. “Tommy. You stay. I need to ask you two to do something for me.”

Tubbo looks up at Wilbur. “What?” he whispers shakily.

“I need you two to  _ stay together.  _ Do not go out of each other’s sight. Do not, under any circumstances, stay out of reach from each other. I don’t care if you have to split up to do your chores faster, you  _ stay together. _ The lights go out? Together. Hold hands. I don’t care what it takes, you two stay together so that  _ you don’t f--king die.  _ Do you understand? Do I make myself clear? _ ” _ He doesn’t say it, but his meaning is clear.  _ I can’t lose either of you, not like this. _

Tommy nods, holding a hand out to Tubbo, who takes it gratefully. “Lead the way, big T,” he mutters, and the two walk off. Wilbur watches them, before looking back at Dream, who still stares silently towards the ceiling.

He reaches forwards, letting his fingers linger on the dead man’s jaw for a moment too long, before he closes the blonde’s eyes and mouth gently, and replaces the helmet.

He lifts the corpse, shuddering at the feeling of Dream's dead weight in his arms, and, with a heaviness in his heart, trudges to the airlock.

He wishes they could bury Dream properly, but…

He isn’t that lucky, and Dream may never get that luxury.

He wishes it wasn’t like this, but what can he do?

_ The knife feels unnatural in his grasp. He hates this. He hates himself for doing this. _

_ And yet, he has to. _

_ And yet, he hates it. _

_ “Hey,” he greets his victim. “What’re you doing?” _

_ Ů̵̮2̴͉̈́F̴̣̐w̵̑͜b̸̺͂m̴̖͠F̵͎͐w̵̛ͅ turns to him, his helmet abandoned, and he grabs the younger man by the shoulders, slitting his throat and careful not to get any bloodstains on him. The body would have thudded to the floor, but he catches it and shoves it down a vent. _

_ There’s a gasp from behind him. “R̶̟͖̜͈͕̐̈́͌͜2̶͈̳͇̯͂͋̏̉̃͝V̵̹̟̱͇͂͠v̸̻̈́c̶̗̩͗̓̒m̷̡̛̙̯̜̟̗̯̮͐͋ͅd̸̮̹̟͖̝̯̜̻̥̂̆̕l̵͍̟̚͝?” Q̷͕̂͋̃̎̕m̸̘̓̐͗͆̉̀F̷̱͙̼͍̲͇͗͗k̸̡͉̗͍̏̐̑ whispers, backing away from him. “No- tell me it’s not true, R̶̟͖̜͈͕̐̈́͌͜2̶͈̳͇̯͂͋̏̉̃͝V̵̹̟̱͇͂͠v̸̻̈́c̶̗̩͗̓̒m̷̡̛̙̯̜̟̗̯̮͐͋ͅd̸̮̹̟͖̝̯̜̻̥̂̆̕l̵͍̟̚͝- it can’t be you, we’re friends, you’d never-” _

_ The hilt of his knife thuds against the man’s head and it knocks him out. He shudders. Why him? Why does he have to be the one to do this? _

_ He opens the second vent in Navigation and drops Q̷͕̂͋̃̎̕m̸̘̓̐͗͆̉̀F̷̱͙̼͍̲͇͗͗k̸̡͉̗͍̏̐̑’s body within as well. Wiping the blood from his knife on Q̷͕̂͋̃̎̕m̸̘̓̐͗͆̉̀F̷̱͙̼͍̲͇͗͗k̸̡͉̗͍̏̐̑’s corpse (it feels so terrible, he feels horrible, why does he have to do this? Wouldn’t it be better to die? He wishes he were dead so he wouldn’t have to do this.), he walks off to find something to wipe all traces of his victim's blood off of him.  _

_ He doesn’t want to take any chances, and murder is the most fickle of businesses. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tubbo sus, how is he that good at autopsies he's like 2


	4. 'tick tock' goes the clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has to be done, despite the risks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh ;-; this wasn't supposed to be a filler chapter i swear i just.... i just can't think of anything else to put and my brain will end me if i don't post a fic today

“What do you have left?” Tubbo asks Tommy, the pair clinging to each other like newborn babies clinging to their mother. “Which tasks?”

“...The vials in Medbay,” he whispers back, although he isn't very quiet, but that is only to be expected from- well- _Tommyinnit,_ of all people. “My ID probably needs to be re-swipe-”

“We’re not going in there.” Tubbo replies, his voice shaking. “We can’t. Tommy, we can’t go back in there, not after what-”

“I know that,” Tommy replies. “Shut up. Then I’ve got shields- goddammit, Wilbur, giving me an easy task- refueling, and… that… that’s it?!” Tommy huffed, clearly annoyed. “What do you have?”

“Uh, I did chutes, and the- the swipe, and then I think I have to do a download in-” Tubbo frowned. “Security..? And then go over to Nav, and then a medbay scan? So I guess we both have tasks in security.”

Tommy groaned. “Why do we have all the easy tasks? We’re big men! You and me are the biggest men on this ship, why can’t those pussy-ass bastards see that?”

“Well, maybe if we have extra time we can try and figure out who the killer is.”

“Ugh, fair point.”

George  _ cannot _ figure out how this stupid wires task works.

He is  _ trying _ to connect them, and he’s gotten the yellow and blue wires connected, but the other two??? They’re the same colour, and to make matters worse, the lighting in here is  _ horrible  _ and he can’t see a  _ thing. _

He keeps trying, and eventually figures it out. He silently celebrates his most glorious accomplishment.

Wilbur is in Communications. Now, you may be asking, ‘Why is Wilbur Soot in Comms?’ I’m getting to that, you’re just incredibly impatient.

The issue with being the captain of a spaceship is that you need people to actually help said spaceship  _ run, _ and with Dream dead and no extra crewmates on board that were qualified to do his tasks, he was quite certain that he would need to call in backup, and perhaps even a few personal favors.

He had a few ideas of who to bring, but… it would get a bit sticky.

They couldn’t exactly land on any heavily-patrolled airways because of that  _ one time _ that they accidentally smuggled weapons and escaped the authorities. 

No matter.

He just needed to call a meeting and alert everyone.

Fundy is very, very tired. He is  _ trying _ to remember which planet they’re meant to land on, but… ugh. He hasn’t been sleeping, and he’s just so  _ stressed _ but he can’t calm down because his anxiety is just on a constant high- damn his enhanced reflexes, they’re not helpful during times like this- and he’s just… 

He groans, walking out of the room. He’s done here.

Besides, the place smells weird, and it’s giving him a headache.

A loud and piercing noise rang through the ship, and soon everyone was in the cafeteria. Fundy’s ears were flattened so that they lay against his head, and his tail’s fur was  _ very  _ spiky, his anxiety through the roof.

Tommy and Tubbo, Wilbur (who had pressed the button) was glad to see, had stayed together. George was oddly still for a moment, before he asked the question weighing on all of them, “Where’s the body?”

Wilbur blinked, frowned, and then replied, “I just called a meeting to say-”

He paused. “Has… has anyone seen Sapnap and BadBoyHalo?”

Tubbo and Fundy both blanched, George somehow managed to become even  _ more _ motionless, and Tommy shook his head. “No,” he replied solemnly, as everyone realized what that meant.

Two more had died.

Two more had fallen to the impostor in their midst.

“I- okay,” Wilbur continued, shaking his head. “I was going to say that… due to…  _ circumstances, _ we… need to bring more people onto the ship.”

George stared at Wilbur blankly. “You want to bring  _ more people,” _ he began, “Onto a  _ ship _ that has a  _ murderer  _ on the loose.”

“We… don’t have another option, George, if we want to actually make it we  _ need _ to do this. I’m… I’m sorry.” For the first time, Wilbur looked dejected, but of course that only was for a split second because it was quickly replaced by determination. “Regardless, we need to look for… their bodies.”

“Split up?” Fundy asked, and Wilbur shook his head. 

“You, me, and George are going to search together, and Tubbo and Tommy are going to search together.”

Tubbo snuck a glance at his partner, and Tommy glanced back, mouthing something that looked like ‘We’re big men, we can do this’. He nodded, and they both set off to the Reactor side of the ship.

Wilbur watched them go and sighed, turning to Fundy and George with a hard glare. “Listen, you two,” he started, and his voice was like ice- cold and cutting. “I know those two- they’re just  _ children. _ They’d never kill anyone. That means it’s either one of you, or it’s me, and I already know it’s not me.

“If you  _ dare _ hurt either one of them I swear to the gods above that I will snap your neck with my own two f--king hands.” 

George sighed. “Let’s… let’s go look.”

And with that, they set off to the Navigation side of the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wilbur is a sad. sad man. sad floof boy.   
> actually, everyone is kinda sad.  
> except gogy? but that's because gogy is gogy, he gets a free pass   
> i wonder who wilbur is going to bring on? o-o
> 
> also my friend is mad at him??? what did he do??? quinn why are you calling his persona villain!wilbur what happened quinn please i need answers

**Author's Note:**

> tommy's lines were painful to write i can't do swears qnq
> 
> Please leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed!


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